It pays to stay calm. Sometimes life after a trauma is better than it was before!
My parents have been watching me like hawks to see when it’s okay for my dad and me to go running again.
My mom has started a series of long neighborhood walks with me, walking at a quick pace. She wants to strengthen my injured leg. She also wants to build endurance in me.
She looks to see if I am limping or using three legs and holding my injured leg up when I go quickly. She looks to see if I am walking on the grass or on the asphalt or sidewalk. She is looking to see if the pads of my paws are tender or are getting calloused and tough.
My parents are looking at the muscles on my left side, the injured side, and comparing them to the muscles on my right side.
When Dad and I are walking and he sees me hopping, he says “Use four legs” and I slow down. Mom has a different technique: “Walk slowly,” she says.
Today we were outside in the back yard and my dad has started throwing the ball for me to catch. He wanted me to see what speed I run at naturally and he noticed if I was hopping or using all four legs.
He noticed that I ran to catch the ball and that I used all four legs.
He noticed that after about ten minutes, I got tired and needed to stop and rest, so we stopped playing that game.
Yesterday my mom and I had a good long walk for 50 minutes. She was happy to see that I kept up the pace. She was happy to see that, though in the beginning I was hopping a little and she had to slow me down, after a while I used all four legs even when we were going at a fast walk.
My mom noticed that I walk comfortably on the street or sidewalk.
My parents are going to keep their eyes on me and watch me closely and patiently. They are also going to keep taking me on long walks with a quick pace. And they are going to throw me the ball in our back yard and watch me run after it and see how I do sprinting.
I’m happy to get all this training; it’s lots of fun but it’s no substitute for the real thing. My urge to run again is still alive and well.
Here are some more friends from the animal medical center: Dakota, the German Shepherd, and Steve, his handler. These are a really proud and nice team!
Dakota guides Steve, who cannot see his way. Dakota was in the hospital because one morning when Steve was going to work and the two of them were going up an escalator, Dakota’s paw got stuck. He too was in a lot of pain, just like I had been. His toes were also broken, like mine had been. He too has to wear a collar, just like I did.
When they are walking together, Dakota helps Steve to walk in a straight line and around obstacles. Outside, Dakota also tells Steve where the curb is so Steve knows where to stop.
However, only Steve determines when it is time to go.
When they are stopped at a curb where there is a traffic light or a stop sign, Steve uses his sense of hearing to determine when it’s safe to cross.
Dakota and Steve are best friends but each one has his role and they work together as a team to ensure Steve’s safety and happiness.
I speak for Dakota when I say that dogs, even guide dogs, cannot understand or obey traffic signals and stop signs, and cannot make decisions about when it is safe to cross the street.
my new friend
This post is Part 2 of 2. Click here to read Part 1 of 2.
There we were in the hot sunshine. Soon my mom had her Furminator out. I know this Furminator from when my little feline-brother was alive and living with us. Mickey used to have his fur brushed all the time. The Furminator was the only tool that Mickey didn’t mind my mom using on him. I used to watch him when Jane brushed him; he hated it and brushing Mickey with a standard cat brush was risky business. She would talk sweetly to him, “Good Mickey” everything. He would be okay for a while until suddenly he’d lunge one of his paws, nails first, right at her. She would wrap him in a towel so he couldn’t hurt her. It was always risky for Jane. Until Dad came home one day with a Furminator. Then Mickey didn’t mind it. I saw that he would sit or stand and allow her to brush his coat. My parents would say “He looks like a kitten again!”
Now she used the Furminator on me.
Outside on this beautiful day, mom spent a lot of time making sure I was as clean and shiny as a new copper penny. I had to stand there while she brushed. She brushed under my neck, on the sides of my head, on my back, along both flanks of my long body, my thighs, my shoulders and under my chest, again and again. Each time I thought she was finished and I was free to find something in the garden to sniff, she started all over again. One place she stayed away from was my wounded leg. She also stayed away from the places where I had been shaved and where my coat was still thin and where my skin was still sensitive.
In the end, I was so clean and my fur so shiny that the golden sunlight bounced right off my coat!
People who see me are still looking at my leg and they say “A little surgery, eh?” However, now they are also looking at my coat and saying “So shiny!” and “So soft!”
And of course, there’s Mary, my favorite postal carrier, whom I saw today , who is thinking ahead and saying “Joey, be careful.”
One week to the day my mom looked at the wound, saw it was dry, and said, “Joey, come” and I followed her upstairs. I didn’t know what her plans were. We got into the bedroom and she headed to the bathroom and said “Joey, come” and I followed her. Then she pointed to the shower and said “Go” and I just walked right in. It was this unusual room for me, sunny at the top because there are glass windows at the top, but narrow. I had to get accustomed to this little room. Then my mom said “Sit” and I sat down. Then she took my collar off.
She sprayed the water gently on my back and sides with something she was holding in her hand, and the water felt warm. It was okay. Then she started with the shampoo. Next, she started rubbing me and saying “Good boy” and using a little rubber brush occasionally. Then she said “Up Up Up” and that’s the signal for me to stand. So I stand.
The hardest part was the “Turn around” part. I don’t know what she means by “Turn around”. Usually when she says “Turn around” I stand there and look at her and then she grabs my whole body and swings it around. Then she sprays more water on me and more shampoo on me and rubs me gently and then with the brush. She does my head last. Then she says again “Joey, turn around”. I really don’t know what she’s asking me to do but when she grabs me and moves me I think I get the idea. Maybe.
After a while, she just pours me with a lot of warm water. This time she said “Stay” and used her hand signal too and looked me in the eye to make sure I got it. Then she left me there while she got towels. I like that part because I like the part where I get dry. At this point I get a lot of “good dogs”. I know she likes to dry me with the towel but I like to rub my head against the floor and carpets and anything soft I can find. Then I like to rub my body along the floor and the carpets and anything soft I can find.
After that, she brought me downstairs for Dad to see. He was very proud of me and I was proud of myself and happy too.
Then Jane took the hairdryer and dried me off.
Then the best part: She put the lead on me and we went outside and sat in the nice warm hot sun for a long long time. Then it got even better: She took the lead off of me and I got to walk around in the garden and just find a nice hot spot in the sun.
Now please go to Part 2 of 2.
I have one birthday every year at which time my parents usually give me a special treat such as potatoes or potato chips or something that I love. They also sing me this song; tonight they sang me a song with a really joyous melody that made me really happy. At the end of the song they said “Joey” then “Yay!” and that made me really happy. Then they sang it again and then once more. I love my parents. They teach me new words so I feel smart and smarter. They try to understand me even when we have trouble communicating. I have friends who let me jump up and kiss them, even when my parents say “Joey, off”. I have doctors and technicians who are kind who let me kiss them and who really care about me and about dogs. I have everything!
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